


Favors

by rebelrsr



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, NCIS
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 15:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelrsr/pseuds/rebelrsr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faith runs into trouble when she does a favor for a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favors

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own anything. Faith belongs to Joss and Co and the NCIS crew belongs to Don Bellisario.

Faith crossed her arms and glared at the pretty boy in front of her. “You wanna share the funny?” she snapped.  What the hell had she been thinking when she agreed to this?

“Nothing’s funny,” the man answered. It was an obvious lie. His lips were still twitching and his voice shook with each word.

The next time this kind of thing came up, Faith was holding firm. No more favors. Not even if the fee for her services was the promise of a weekend of wild sex. “Listen up!” Faith narrowed her eyes and stepped into the man’s personal space. “Today ain’t a joke. You’re here ‘cause you suck in hand to hand fighting. I got one day to change that so don’t be wastin’ my time.” Feeling a little better, she grinned evilly. “You fuck with me, I’m gonna make you my practice dummy for the day. Any volunteers?”

As she’d hoped, the moron in front of her immediately raised his hand. “I’d love to be your…dummy for the day.”

“You said it, sport.” Faith stepped back, her smile dying. She had one day. By the looks of the motley trio standing in a semi-circle on the mat, it might be enough to keep _most_ of them from getting their assed kicked by a first grader. They might be a team of government agents, but Faith was willing to bet they spent more time behind desks than they did at the gym. “What’s your name?”

“Dinozzo. Tony Dinozzo.” He gave what Faith figured was his most charming smile and winked. “You can call me Tony.”

Ah. That explained a lot. Faith had heard all about Tony. She should have recognized the legendary smirk and the ego. Too bad this wasn’t the time or the place to show him how much she appreciated his attitude. “OK, sport,” Faith answered, not missing the way the nickname barely ruffled Tony’s smile. “We’re gonna start with how you’d come at me if you thought I was a bad ass and you needed to arrest me.”

She moved a few feet away and wiggled her arms to loosen the suddenly tight muscles across her shoulders.

“Put your hands in the air; you’re under arrest.” Tony didn’t bother to draw the fake weapon in the holster around his waist. He _did_ pull out the handcuffs. They dangled almost teasingly from his right index finger as he swaggered closer.

Faith waited patiently. After all, Tony might stop playing to the crowd and get his act together.

It was a good thing she wasn’t expecting him to, though. By the time he reached Faith, the cuffs were spinning around his finger and his voice had picked up an irritating drawl. “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to go with me, little lady,” Tony announced. His free hand reached for Faith’s left arm.

The maneuver probably didn’t turn out the way he’d planned.

Sliding a half step forward, Faith avoided the grasping hand and seized his wrist. Then she pivoted on her left foot, planted her hips against Tony’s stomach, and bent her knees. A quick scoop with her hips and butt and a turn of her shoulders sent Tony sailing in a perfect arc onto the mat. His handcuffs landed a few feet away.

“I’m thinkin’ you need a new technique, sport.” Faith used the momentum of the throw to leverage Tony’s right arm into an elbow lock and knelt with her knee (and all of her body weight) on his solar plexus.

Tony’s only response was a pained wheeze.

“Perhaps it would have been more effective if Tony had used his weapon,” the only woman in the group said. She stared intently at Faith. “Ziva David. Mossad. Shall I demonstrate?”

Something in her demeanor had Faith feeling phantom cuffs fastened around her wrists. “Practice with Tony. I want to see what…” She pointed at the chubby young man to Ziva’s left.

“McGee,” he obligingly offered.

“McGee’s got.” Faith stood up and waved at the still-prone Tony. “Take turns doin’ the arrestin’ and I’ll stop by to check on ya’ in a few.” Then, because there was something in Ziva’s expression that heralded trouble, she added, “And remember – this is a class. You ain’t really working with perps. Don’t hurt him.”

Ziva gave a husky chuckle. “I will not _harm_ him. That I can promise.”

Not fully reassured, Faith kept one eye on the pair as she squared off with McGee. Fifteen minutes later, she’d seized his cuffs four times and his gun three. He fared better than Tony, though. Faith lost track of the number of times Ziva threw him to the mat.

When she kicked him in the stomach with a little too much fervor, however, Faith stepped in. “You got issues with rules, don’t ya’?” It wasn’t really a question. Faith recognized Ziva’s type. Hell, she’d _been_ Ziva’s type not that long ago.

“I do not. I have issues with Tony.” Ziva smiled slightly. “Besides, I did as you asked. I have not hurt him.” Flicking a glance at a gasping and handcuffed Tony, she amended, “Not much.”

“Thing is, I said don’t hurt him. You had to push.” Faith met Ziva’s cold stare easily, not even bothering to wake her Slayer. “That earns _you_ the title of practice dummy. Let’s take this from the top. You’re here to arrest me; I ain’t willin’. Whatcha gonna do?”

Ziva’s satisfied smile sent a ripple of unease through Faith. “Perhaps I will be your assistant. I am no one’s dummy.” Pacing away from the group, Ziva took up a spot at the far end of the mat. One hand dropped to the butt of her gun.

Maybe tapping the Slayer wasn’t such a bad idea. Keeping her eyes on Ziva, Faith spread her legs shoulder-width apart and balanced on the balls of her feet.

Ziva didn’t move by so much as an inch. Her hand still rested on the molded plastic of her weapon, and she watched Faith intently. “NCIS,” she announced in a clear (if accented) voice. “You are under arrest. Put your hands in the air and drop to your knees.”

It was a far better introduction to the arrest process than Dinozzo had used. Faith was reluctantly impressed.

Until Ziva continued.  “If you do not, I will have to insist, and you will more than likely need medical attention.”

Faith smirked. “You think so?” She held her hands away from her body. “I ain’t armed; you gonna call for backup? Maybe get Ton-nay,” Faith mocked his earlier pronunciation of his name, “to help you take me in?”

Her last comment was a direct hit. Ziva’s eyes narrowed, and a flush tinted her cheeks. “I will not need help. I was trained by Mossad.” Her hand slipped away from her gun. “You do not listen very well. You are not in the correct position,” Ziva pointed out. She moved two threatening steps closer.

Anticipating that reaction, Faith moved, too. Her left foot slid a half-step back, putting her body at a forty-five degree angle to the advancing Ziva. A second passed. Then Faith lashed out with the blade of her right foot.

Faith hadn’t used anything more than normal speed or strength, and Ziva blocked the kick easily. However, she was on guard now. Dropping into a defensive crouch, she raised her hands and they began to cautiously circle each other. “I suggest that you do not try to fight me. I do not wish to hurt you.”

Stifled laughter filled the room. “Right. I believe that, don’t you, Probie?” Faith dimly heard Tony ask.

Forcing her attention away from the conversation, Faith noted Ziva’s muscles bunch. She was going to attack…Now!

Ziva dove at Faith, and they crashed to the mats in a tangle of arms and legs.

Automatically attempting to control the situation, Faith wrapped her legs around Ziva’s waist and crossed her ankles. She pushed at Ziva’s sides with her knees just in time. The punch Ziva swung missed Faith’s nose by mere millimeters thanks to the distance Faith had created between them.

Damn it! This had been a bad idea, Faith thought for a second time. Ziva was good. Too good for her to beat without resorting to a few Slayer skills. Another punch launched. This time, it found its mark, and Faith grunted when Ziva’s knuckles slammed into her ribs.

Those hands were lethal weapons.  Faith could already feel the bruises forming.

To give herself time to come up with a plan of attack, she squeezed her legs tighter around Ziva and yanked the other woman’s body on top of her own. To take the flailing fists out of the equation, Faith rose up slightly and entwined her arms tightly around Ziva’s neck and left arm, pressing her chin into the exposed flesh of Ziva’s left shoulder.

“Bitch!” Ziva wasn’t happy about the new position. She writhed in Faith’s grasp, testing Faith’s hold.

For the first time, Faith thought she might be in real trouble. Although the punching had slowed (thanks to her death grip on Ziva’s left arm), Faith had a new problem. She was wrapped around the other woman. They were pressed together. Firmly.

Sometimes, Slayer powers ruled. Sometimes - like now - they so didn’t.

Fighting her sudden awareness of Ziva, of Ziva’s body heat, of Ziva’s smell, Faith waited for Ziva to make her next move.

It happened in a split second.

Ziva’s muscles tensed against Faith, and she started to stand. One foot planted on the mat. Then the other. With a grunt of effort, Ziva managed to get both of them upright, Faith still clinging to her chest.

However, Faith was merely biding her time. The second Ziva seemed comfortable with their new position, Faith released her hold on Ziva’s neck. Her torso dropped backward, and her shoulders hit the mat. In quick succession, Faith gripped Ziva’s ankles and pressed her knees tightly around Ziva’s waist, shoving the other woman backward.

With what Faith assumed was a curse in another language, Ziva tumbled onto the mat.

Faith shot to her knees and dove on top of Ziva. Sitting astride Ziva’s stomach, Faith tucked her feet close to Ziva’s sides and settled her right forearm under Ziva’s chin. “Tap out,” she ordered softly, staring into blazing eyes. “You can’t win this one.”

“Want…to…bet?” Ziva wasn’t conceding anything. Her hips surged up, and Faith did a little cursing of her own as she was nearly thrown off. “I was trained…”

“By Mossad. I got that.” Faith idly wondered if this Mossad would move to the States and train _her_. Ziva had come close to besting her. Even though she hadn’t employed any of her enhanced skills, Faith was still impressed.

And still turned on.

She had to put some distance between them. Abandoning the conventions of unarmed combat, Faith wiggled her free hand down to Ziva’s weapons belt and seized the butt of her gun. It came free with one desperate tug. “You’re dead,” Faith announced, pointing the molded plastic barrel to Ziva’s temple.

In a single, fluid move, Faith stood and stalked a few shaky steps away. “Never do something this stupid. If ya’ got a gun, use it. I might be some kind of kung fu killer.”

“Ooh, like Uma Thurman’s character in _Kill Bill_.” Tony had completely missed the import of Faith’s lesson. He grinned and waved his hands as if her were holding a katana. “She was hot in that one. Not to mention she could have kicked Ziva’s ass without breaking a sweat.”

“Dinozzo! McGee!” A new voice cut off the rest of Tony’s ode to Uma. “What are you two doing? Stop wasting time and gear up. We’ve got a body.”

As if doused with cold water, Tony straightened and sprinted for the door with McGee a half-step behind. “On it, Boss.

Faith spun to stare at the man at the edge of the mat. “I guess class is over,” she said, looking him up and down. He was a far cry from Tony or McGee. He met her eyes calmly. “You gonna need me to come back or something?”

His lips turned up in a slight smile. “Oh, I think you’ll be here a lot, Ms. Lehane.”

“Gibbs?” Faith had almost forgotten Ziva was still in the room. “Did you wish me to join Tony and McGee?”

“Go,” Gibbs answered. As Ziva trotted to do his bidding, he added casually, his eyes still locked with Faith’s. “But the next time you want to play grab ass with your new girlfriend, Officer David, do it on your own time. Dinozzo already has enough trouble focusing on the job; he doesn’t need images of the two of you rolling on the mat to make things worse.”

Ziva froze, and Faith winced. “Look,” she started to say in their defense.

However, Gibbs had already turned and strode out of the door.

“I thought you said you hadn’t told anyone!” Faith turned toward an obviously stunned Ziva.


End file.
